


Ink-like thoughts through a sieve-like mind

by maleficentWatermelon



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 14:54:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18263609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maleficentWatermelon/pseuds/maleficentWatermelon
Summary: Joey Drew is very good at focusing on one particular thing.





	Ink-like thoughts through a sieve-like mind

**Author's Note:**

> ok ty to my other friend for this idea idk what id do without some of yall but heres joey freaking out basically

It’s true of many things that the first time you do it, you never forget. It’s true of summoning demons(..?) as well, it seems, you think as delayed excitement and almost giddiness rises up in your chest. Well. Summoning is not nearly the correct word, not at all. No, you created life itself, and it’s _perfect._

 

The Devil Darling is not the success you thought he’d be. You see it in the faces of your employees, a sidelong glance at the chipper creature as he skips by, a muttering remark and a whisper and once a Bible, left at your office door. You try not to let it get to you. You don’t see anything wrong with him, nothing… otherworldly, as the Gent employee had so succinctly put it. No, the Dancing Demon navigated his newfound third dimension with the ease and grace of any human, much better than he’d hoped, perfectly on-model in mind and body. Although, it was hard to forget, too, the clawing pain when you finally placed who the little demon reminded you of….

But you aren’t going to think about that. You’re a busy man. 

When the investor you’re supposed to meet with that day catches sight of **your** dearest creation, you read the shock and horror flitting across his face like one of your books. Something in you snaps and then you’re yelling, you order him out of your office, and round on your cowering creation. Otherworldly, huh? You’ll fix this. You hoist him up in the air and dash to the Ink Machine’s room. 

He will be perfect. He should not be so afraid. 

You spend hours that evening tweaking and adjusting, editing and undoing and redoing and   
what was still your greatest creation. He comes out even better than before, grin fixed in place, horns just a liiiiittle longer….

The glances are harder to hide, now, or maybe you’re just better at spotting them, but they certainly don’t go away. Even worse, they’re not just aimed at him, now, they’re aimed at you. You see their sneers and their smirks and their giggles and guffaws and chuckles aimed at **you**. With a deep breath, you work on Bendy again.

And again.

And again. Day after day, he gets better and better, original design improved upon and brought to new heights! But the faces only get worse- abject horror, now, every face brings you back to that investor so long ago…

You overhear them talking about you. Splashing through the ink, people **mutter** and **run their mouths** about **things they don't understand**. The Demon is not enough for you now, there are more characters. And, for fucks sake, you’ll rectify the silly mistake. Soulless? You’ll give them souls. After all, you have quite a few, don’t you?

Susie is easy, a sitting duck, still so simple to catch it almost makes you feel bad. She falls to you and her thoughts are yours to bend and shape. Her obsession with Alice is what leaves her with a thin red necklace encircling her neck like the thinnest of chains. Some part of you is _horrified_ , that’s Susie, your _friend-_

 

You block it out. That voice is not you, and that voice will not stop what needs to be done, what will be done.

The Angel rises, flawed in ways you can’t fix, filled with curdled anger so unlike the precious, sweet little thing that’s so close to your heart, so you fix her too. They are both so improved.

The people spit at you now, their disgust with you and your hard work like boiling water on cold skin, like salt in an open wound, like acetone in Ink. Actually, you can’t remember seeing anyone in a long time. Where are all the people? Were they ever here?

It doesn’t matter, not at all. You have all you need, all you could ever want. Perfection is just around the corner. You don’t bother to edit Boris, it’s quicker just to make a new one, but Bendy and Alice? They’re so close now, so almost perfect. 

Alice shares your goals, to your delight. You’re not as delighted when you see where those Boris clones went, but you’re not very upset, either. Most of the Borises were interns- faces that only appeared for a week or so around here. You snap at everyone who crosses your path.

Irritable as you’ve taken to being, you’re alone in your office, deep in the depths of the studio, where no human had tread for decades now, when it occurs to you. You could be so powerful, you could play God, the stage is already set. The Angel and the Demon are perfected, beautiful beings, the Ink Demon is more than you could have hoped for. Yes, you made all this happen, didn’t you? An Angel, a Demon, a nameless Prophet, a Puppeteer.

You sit down at your desk from where you’d been pacing and begin to draft a letter to a man you hadn’t thought about for a long time, whos name even to this day fills you with more rage than your former employees faces ever did. It’s been so long since you had a day off, a night of fun, and this time? You’ll be the one pulling the strings.


End file.
